Baroness Rune had never been his mother, but her son Aelfric had been the only family that Luc Derune had ever known. Ever since the arrival of the royal party to Caernholm, Luc knew his time had come. He couldn’t stay there any longer. The hushed whispers as he passed, the naked hostility of the court ladies, the scornful looks he was given when he spoke of his future. Ever since he had taken up the sword as a boy the Baroness had pushed him to join the Errantry. Even back then he understood, he was not wanted here. Not wanted in what he thought was his home. The Errantry might be a home. When he was younger, he thought to join the Grandsraad and become one of the knights in gold who protected the weak. He was laughed at when he asked about them, it wasn’t until his father told him the truth of them and their… Excesses that he turned his mind to Errantry.

He was told the Grandsraad was nothing other than a company of cutthroats and social climbers more interested in property than chivalry. They use all manner of dirty tricks to fleece pilgrims out of their treasures and use it to buy land out from underneath struggling lords. In comparison, his father had nothing but praise for the Errantry. A fraternity united in the idea that collective sacrifice is necessary for the greater good. All the knights of the North agreed. Luc had never met any Southern knights; he did not know their thoughts on the two Orders.

He knocked on the door to Aelf’s room, lightly at first, as if he didn’t want to wake those inside.

“Enter.”

It was a small room. Luc had always been surprised that Aelf never took up the offer to move to one of the chambers lower down, more spacious and warmer. But his brother had always loved the view from the window. Now by that same window they used to sit at as children and play games was a four-post bed, and tucked firmly underneath its sheets was Aelfric Rune, or what was left of him. Luc had called in on his brother only once before, and before the Baroness chased him out with a cry, he had seen the grey shrivelled-up thing Hedwyn claimed was his brother.

Now he saw him clearly, short and stunted like some misshapen doll. His light, almost auburn, hair was plastered to his face. Shallow yelping breaths came from dry lips, but most disturbingly of all, his eyes were wide open. Hedwyn said he could not see, and that he would never see again, and despite his eyes being open he was not aware of the world around him.

Two figures sat on either side of Aelf in the gloom. One remained permanently thrown over one side of the boy, hands constantly running through his hair, wiping his face and lips, whispering into his ears. The other sat on a padded chair rocking back and forth, in her hands were needles and thread working together to form some garment or other.

Luc swallowed hard as he approached. His father had told him about his grandmother, how she had astounded the family by breaking her self-imposed exile to come and watch over the young Aelf. Luc had never spoken to her before, had never met her. He’d only heard about her through his father. Elysia Rune was her name and she had been the Iron Mistress of Angevain long before Luc had been born. She was dynamic and ambitious and arranged marriages for her children far beyond the confines of the North, from Servern to Estermarch she searched and negotiated and betrothed. And when her plans came to fruition and war came to Evros she never forgave herself for her part in the death of her husband.

Elysia sat there, needles in hand, looking directly at the door. Was it her that called him in? No, the servants said that Lady Elysia hadn’t spoken since she received word of her husband's death over twenty years ago.

Luc knew he was not wanted here. He didn’t need to hear them say it, the short glares and stiff politeness were enough for him. He wouldn’t want to hear them say it. He was here for Aelf, not them.

Luc strode forward to the bed. He chose to cross paths with the grandmother, at least there he would not hear any words in his ears. Kneeling to the bed he reached a hand out to touch his forehead. Eveline followed his hand with her eyes the entire way. Eyes filled with accusation. And in that moment Luc forgot his boyish fears and felt rage. What did she know about him? What did she know about her son? Aelfric Rune kept much from his parents since they were boys, he confided everything to Luc. In Aelf’s eyes, he was more a brother to him than his own blood-brother Edric. It had been Luc who knew where to look when news of his disappearance swept through the halls of Caernholm. He stayed when the other guards were pulled to look in other parts of the city, pulled away on the orders of Eveline.

It was desperation that drove him to the pool when hours bled into days. He slumped to his knees and stared into its inky depths. Something compelled him to reach out, some lingering strand on the air, wisping around his fingers and through his hair. On that compulsion, he punched through the surface and disturbed the water, and like a premonition, he saw the still body of Aelf.

Now he sees that same body again, looking less alive somehow, beaten down and withered.

I can’t believe that is my brother.

“I’ve come to say goodbye,” said Luc. He looked across to Baroness Eveline.

“Then say it and be gone.”

Luc swallowed and turned his eyes back down to Aelfric; it took all his courage to look into those milky pupils and hold his gaze there.

“I’m going north Aelf, to Guildmark. Remember when we went there as boys and watched all the ships go in and out for hours? Remember when we dreamed of all the places they came from? The Old Empire, the Republic. And how we so wished we could get aboard them and see if all the legends were true? All the stories we read in Hedwyn’s books… I’m so sorry Aelf, but I’m going without you… Up north to the Errantry to the Tear. I know I promised to take you but it’s too late, I left it too late.” Luc could feel tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “I fear I will never see you again brother, and now you will never see me again. Goodbye.” With that, he kissed his forehead gently and sat back.

“You’ve said it, now go. Leave us in peace,” hissed Eveline.

Luc could not will himself to move. The tears streamed freely down his cheeks, and he could feel his chin wobble. He felt something wipe at his face and he jerked back with a start. It was Elysia. The old woman had reached a wizened hand out to his cheek and brushed the tears away. There was an unknowable look in her watery green eyes. Luc pulled himself to his feet and bowed stiffly to the two ladies. On trembling legs, he ran out of the room.

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He found himself standing on a mezzanine overlooking a small garden, one of many which pockmarked the large keep. Down below were strips of fertile soil in which many exotic flowers and bushes had been planted. His flight from Aelf chamber had been a blur, he remembered crashing into one guard and knocking a pail of water from some poor maid's arms, he didn’t even mumble an apology as he rushed for the cool morning air. As he leaned over the stone balustrade wiping his face on his sleeves Luc spied a lone figure wandering through the lush gardens. It was Guinevere Rune, the youngest child of the Rune family and his adoptive sister. He considered calling out to her, going down there and talking about Aelf and the pain that seeing him brought. Guinevere would listen patiently, she always had maturity beyond her years, but they had never been close, not close enough for that.

“Even when she is alone, with no eyes upon her she manages to play the part of graceful lady.”

Luc turned to the familiar voice. It was Gwendolyn. She was dressed in a richly made but simple riding dress of deep velvet green. Luc pulled himself off the stone and stood up straight. “Then that begs the question, is it an act at all?”

Gwen snorted, “Of course it is. Nobody can be that perfect naturally, and you haven’t seen her behind closed doors Luc she can be as childish as any of us.”

“I seem to recall you being the most childish of all of us.”

Gwen smacked him on the arm, “I think you’ll find it was Aelf who was behind all of those childish pranks, and I seem to remember him having help from a benefactor who was always too smart to get caught.”

The mention of Aelf darkened his spirit and he hung his head over the side of the balustrade again. “Aelf, me and him did get up to some mischief and he was always happy to take the blame. He knew the punishment for me would always be harsher.”

“Was she cruel, when you went to see him?”

Luc sighed. “No, not really, just distant and in mourning. In truth, I don’t know if she knew it was me in there. I kept my distance, and I didn’t linger once I said what I needed to say. I don’t think I could have, not with him looking like that. That doesn’t make me a bad brother, does it?”

Gwen stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself hard into his back. “No Luc it doesn’t, the rest of us could barely stand it in that room, Edric was beside himself with rage storming around the castle looking for someone to hurt, even Neve was too overcome to stay for more than a few moments. You were always his favourite Luc; he would never think any less of you.”

He appreciated the words and the warmth of her embrace. “Thank you Gwen, I hope this comfort lasts me to Talon Keep.”

She turned him to face her, “You are still set to go to that place, I have heard what they say about the Errantry, the barons and lords find petty cutthroats and rouges to take the place of their sons, they say those frozen castles are a death sentence.”

Luc brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “You listen to the court ladies too much; they are not knights Gwen and they have scarcely seen the lands beyond Angevain never mind the furthest reaches of Fenryr.”

“Women know more than you think Luc, never is a man’s tongue looser than in the presence of a beautiful woman with a cup of wine. It is knights who say these things. You deserve better than that wasteland, come with me to the capital, Mother says it is a dangerous place, and I can’t think of anyone better to protect me.”

“If only it were that simple. I cannot go to Valorium, you know what they think I am, the Baroness would never allow it. And I don’t belong there, I barely belong here and with Aelf gone there’s no reason to stay.”

Gwen’s eyes narrowed and went shiny with tears. “Aelf isn’t dead, and do the rest of us mean so little to you Luc? Always hiding in the shadows, gloomy and distant. Would it be so hard to try a little? We’ve never been what they wanted us to be, you Aelf and I, and you would cast me aside just like that!” Her hands gripped his wrists like a vice.

Luc broke that grip and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry Gwen. All that has happened with Aelf has weighed heavily on my mind and I’d forgotten about all the changes coming. If there were any way for me to come with you I would, but you know your mother, how she feels about me, and father is of the same mind. My future does not lie in the south. But this is not the end. The Errantry is not forever, when my service is done, I’ll come back, and maybe I’ll be more accepted, maybe they’ll shun me less.” Gwen pushed her head deep into his chest to cover her sobs. At the corner of his eye, Luc saw Guinevere looking up at them from the garden.

There was little time for further farewells as their father's party readied to leave Caernholm, Edric took his arm and nodded at him curtly, it was one of the most tender moments they had ever shared. He didn’t see the rest of his family, the Grand Baron had been the first to leave with Captain Raine, and the Baroness hadn’t left Aelfric’s side. Guinevere and Gwendolyn were hidden in their wagon and Edric only bade him farewell as it was his duty as the new Lord of Caernholm.

He saddled his horse, strapped his sword and shield to the saddlebags and took one last look at the place he called home. An escort had been organised for him, two riders would accompany him down the highway to Guildmark, and from there he would meet the man responsible for transporting him to Vinterheim and then he was on his own. Supposedly there was an Errantry outpost close to the castle, but he had been given little information on where it was. He wore his mail hauberk with a plain grey tabard, the rest of his armour was tucked away in his saddlebags away from prying eyes.

“You seem awfully forlorn bastard. From the look in your eyes to the drabness of your dress.”

Luc turned to look at the voice which mocked him. When he saw the hulking man in a white robe, he nearly quailed, until he looked down and saw the sardonic smile on the man in the wheelchair. It was Gideon Vauken, crippled brother to Grandmaster Hector Vauken and Queen Amicia Aurel. His hair was dark black, like the night sky, it was long and lank falling into his dark brass eyes.

“Surely leaving your home and family is reason to be sad, and I am no bastard.”

“On the contrary bastard-” Luc’s face twisted in anger at the word's continued use, “- I was the exact opposite the day I left my home. I scarce recall saying goodbye to anyone just hauling myself on the horse and galloping until the beast could run no longer.”

Luc nearly scoffed, the idea that one as crippled as Lord Vauken could seat a horse was absurd.

“For what do I owe the pleasure of your company my Lord.” Luc stopped short of the exaggerated bow he had in mind; it wouldn’t do to forget his manners completely.

“The Grand Baron tells me you are leaving for Guildmark, and then on to Talon Keep by the Tear. In all my years of touring, I have never had the opportunity to visit our kingdom's most hostile land. ‘You need a local guide’ some said, ‘You need a cadre of fine knights to ensure your survival’ others would say. Well, now I have found both in you young Luc. And so, we shall travel together, your father has already given his consent.”

Luc ground his teeth together, he did not want company, he was angry that his father had arranged for an escort to Guildmark, and now he had to play second fiddle to the brother of the Queen. When he arrives at Vinterheim there will be feasts and meetings, he will be expected to attend as son of the Grand Baron, with Gideon Vauken in tow there will be no way to slip away from the castle before he is noticed.

“Excellent.”